A Girl's Other Best Friend
by DeMarcos
Summary: Sam, Sock and Ben need to capture the escaped soul of a 70's porn star while Dean and Sam travel to Seattle when they learn about increased supernatural activity in the area. Supernatural crossover.
1. The Vessel ::Pretty In Pink::

Title: A Girl's Other Best Friend

Author: DeMarcos

Summary: Sam, Sock and Ben need to capture the escaped soul of a 70's porn star while Dean and Sam travel to Seattle when they learn about increased supernatural activity.

Notes: My first Reaper fic and my first Supernatural fic, all rolled into one. Can't you just feel the fail:stupid grin: Mad noise to my southern belle, swampmusic. I know this isn't what she really wanted, but when the muse hits (with a baseball bat, as he is wont to do) I just roll with the blows. Also, mucho lovings to my sometimes beta Lady of the Willows. Now, onward!

* * *

The alarm clock blared loudly, splitting the calm silence that filled the room. A hand shot out from under the thick blue spread to quiet the offending object, sending a plastic cup and an old magazine flying off the nightstand and skittering to the floor as it blinding tried to locate the source of the noise. Fingers finding the clock, it slammed down on the snooze button. The body attached to the arm peeked out from under the covers and squinted, the haze of sleep making his vision blurry.

Sam groaned and flopped back down onto the bed and gazed up at the ceiling. At that moment, he really wished that he could make Ted's head explode. After having him work night shift for almost two months, he switched his shift yesterday and told Sam and Sock that they had to open for the rest of the week. Sock had played the decision off coolly, but after Ted had left, a smug smile plastering his features, Sock threatened to pour sugar in his gas tank and melt his tires. Sam managed to calm him down by plying him with almost a kegs worth of beer after they clocked out, but he knew that today was going to be trying.

'What else could make this day any worse?'

He sat up straight on his bed and scanned his room frantically, praying that there would be no wooden boxes assaulting him at all today. The last thing he needed was to worry about some homicidal soul. Not seeing anything, Sam swung his legs over the mattress and scrubbed his face with his hands. He debated on catching a shower before going in, but the alarm went off again. Sam toggled the alarm switch off and knew he would barely have time to get dressed and pick up Sock before he needed to be at the Work Bench.

Sighing, Sam stood up and began searching for some clean clothes.

**SRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR**

:Outside of Mill City, Nevada:

Dean shoveled a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth and turned his attention back to the folded paper in his hand. He and Sam had ended up in in B.F. Nowhere to investigate the possession of young twin boys. It had been an easy hunt and they had stopped at a little diner on the edge of the podunk town after they had killed the demon and the family thanked them profusely. Dean let out a sharp laugh as he read the comics, chunks off egg and cheese flying out of his mouth and landing on the table.

"That little kid is so pissed off."

A laptop was placed on the table, followed by Sam as he scooted into the booth. Dean took his eyes off the paper to look at his brother and inwardly groaned. He knew that look on Sam's face. The one that said they had another hunt ahead of them. Dean set down the paper and scooped up some more scrambled eggs.

"So what is it this time?"

Sam gave his brother a cynical grin and opened up the laptop and spun it around on the table so Dean could see the screen. It was an image of a map with red dots signifying supernatural hot spots. They seemed to be clustered around one area. Dean leaned in and saw that it was around Seattle, Washington.

"Within the last few months, there has been some increased activity in Seattle. Nothing too major, a few unexplained deaths, though it doesn't seem to be just demons and possessions. Freak earthquakes that are localized to certain areas instead of effecting the whole city. Reports of guys who can walk through walls. A guy who could control fire. There was even a report by some guy who said he witnessed a woman leap off a building and swan dived into a car. He thinks its a suicide, but when he runs off to tell somebody, he sees the girl get up and walk away. Cops didn't believe him, though there was a car with a person sized dent in the roof."

Dean whistled and arched is eyebrows.

"That's a hell of a trick. So what are you thinking? More than just some pissed off demons got out from the Devil's Gate. Because I ain't never heard of a demon that could walk through walls."

Sam spun the laptop back around to him, his index finger flying over the mouse pad. As his brother worked his computer magic, the waitress came by to top of Dean's coffee and Dean gave the lady as wink as she walked away. Sam saw this and cursed his brothers' libido. He cleared his throat, bringing Dean's attention back to him.

"I don't know about that. Apparently there were some disturbance reports filed to the police by people claiming their neighbor was a demon. Whatever it is, we definitely have to check it out."

Dean nodded, finished off his plate and signaled for the check.

**SRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR**

Sock plopped down on the register counter and stretched out on the surface, resting his head on his hand.

"So what's up LJ? No box full of special toys today?"

Sam shook his head and looked at his friend quizzically.

"LJ?"

Sock smiled and pulled himself up into a sitting position, his legs dangling over the counter.

"Lucifer Jr.! You got to have a bitchin' name when you go up against these souls, man. You know I love you like the brother I wish I never had, but Sam is a weak name when it comes to these deviants. If your name is weak, you won't be able to strike fear into the hearts of your enemy."

Sock now had his face next to Sam's and had that all too familiar maniacal gleam in his eye. Sam laughed and pushed Sock away from him, causing Sock to prat fall to the ground. He didn't seem to mind though when two girls walked in, both of them wearing short skirts and giggling a little too loudly. While Sock was enjoying the view, Sam greeted them with the tacky phrase that Ted had been trying to expound into the employees.

Their laughs grew louder, but they kept their eyes on Sam as they walked into the gardening section, all the while shaking their hips suggestively. Sock bolted up from the floor and was back in Sam's face.

"Dude! Those chicks totally dig you! You should go back there and try to move in on them. They look slutty so you might get them to double team you!"

Sam snorted and turned back to the register to ring up a customer.

"I don't know what it is, but every girl that has walked in since we opened has been like that. At first, I thought it was my cologne or something, but then I remembered that I didn't even get a chance to shower today since you had to bum a ride off of me."

The old man paying for his items shook his head and muttered something about young kids before pushing his cart out the door. Sock grinned and took in a deep breath.

"It's the devil musk. It's attracting the loosely moralled to you. Hey, you think you could convince the Devil into giving me this power? I could make a killing at the bar and make Josie wicked jealous."

Sam was going to reply when Ben walked in through the sliding doors, adjusting his tie. He nodded to Sam and Sock before heading back to the employee locker room to grab his smock. Right behind him was a middle aged brunette perusing a list clutched in her hand. Sock acknowledged her with a tilt of his head and Sam greeted her.

"Good morning. Can I help you find anything today?"

The woman smirked lasciviously and shook her head.

"No, but you could help me with some other things."

Sock began to slap Sam's shoulder as they stared dumbly at her but there was a loud crash from the back room. Sam held up a finger and stuttered at the woman.

"W-We'll be just a moment, ma'am."

They came out from behind the register and jogged to the locker room, barreling through the door. Ben was on the ground rubbing his arm in pain. When he saw his friends enter, he motioned to his feet, where a small wooden box lay innocently. Sock cheered and pumped his fist while Sam growled, bending over to retrieve the vessel box. Setting it on the fold away table, he turned around to help Ben up. Then, all three of them crowded around the table.

Sam flexed his fingers, hesitating for a moment but Sock jabbed his elbow into Sam's back, urging him on. Sighing, he pulled open the clasps and lifted the lid. Plumes of white smoke poured out and they waved their arms around to clear it from their faces, choking slightly from the musty smell that always emanated from the boxes. Sock pointed excitedly.

"Dude! Is that what I think it is?"

Ben tried to suppress a laugh and Sam's level of hatred for the Devil grew exponentially. He reached in to pull out the vessel. It was bright pink and covered in a soft, smooth substance. Sock covered his mouth with his hand and exchanged a look with Ben.

"I so want to meet the soul that goes in this vessel."

Sam had to admit he was curious as well as he held aloft the soft, pink vibrator.

To Be Continued...

* * *

Will Sock get the demonic powers of persuasion he wants? Will Sam score with the two slutty chicks? Does anyone really care?

I am a huge hater of people who write themselves into their stories, but I am toeing the line in this one. I guess you could say there is an aspect of myself in the vessel, seeing as how I work at an adult video store and the idea for this came to me at work. My creativity is not based on reviews, but they do inflate my oversized ego. And mad props to the first person who can guess what comic Dean was reading.


	2. The Soul ::Shop Talk::

Title: The Soul

Author: DeMarcos

Summary: Sam gets info on the new soul in town while Dean and Sam check in on its first victim.

Notes: Not much to say here... Lovings to swampmusic and Lady of the Willows, who helped me add some kick to the Devil. So, onwards!

* * *

Sam stuffed the vessel deep into his pants pockets and adjusted his blue smock to cover the bulge it made. Smoothing down the material with his hands, Sam looked back up at Ben and Sock for confirmation that the vessel was not noticeable.

"So..."

Sock's face turned beet red and Ben just went to his locker to pull out his own smock and chose to ignore the situation. Sock took in a deep calming breath and walked slowly over to Sam.

"Is that a rocket in your pocket or are you just glad to see us?"

Ben snorted as he was tying up his threads but did not turn around. Sam threw his hands in the air and sighed as Sock laughed riotously. Sock put his hands on Sam's shoulders and led his friend back out to the store, still laughing, Ben following behind them. They passed the two girls from earlier and they giggled and waved at Sam. Behind him, Sock extended his thumb and pinky in the universal symbol for a phone and mouthed to the girls to call. Sam couldn't see him, but he knew what Sock was doing. Choosing to let it slide, he went back to his register, knowing there was nothing he could do until the Devil contacted him and told him where the soul would be.

The rest of the day was smooth after that, though Sam had to physically restrain Sock from leaping over the counter when Ted waltzed in around noon and gave them both a simpering smile. He placated his friend by handing over the numerous slips of paper with telephone numbers on them that began to line his pockets, making them bulge comically. Sam then checked his watch, which told him he had five minutes left on his shift. Cashing out his drawer, he strolled to the back room to turn it in and headed back to the locker room.

Sam opened the door to find himself in a darkened theater that smelled like anything but. The light from the screen was the only thing illuminating the place, but as his eyes adjusted, Sam could see moth eaten seats and dozens of tissues lying on the track lighted walkway. A hand grasped his arm and pulled him down into a seat. Sam whipped his head around to look at his employer, who as usual, looked like he was made of money and confidence, the dark suit made of what appeared to be fine Italian fabric and was custom fitted to his body. The shining blue tie set off the suit along with the Devil's pearly white smile.

The Devil thrust a bag of popcorn at Sam before he could speak and held a finger up to his lips and pointed at the white screen.

"Hold your horses, Sammy. The show is about to start."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the white screen went black and Sam could hear the sound of the projector running from above them. The movie opened on a house where a man in a plumbers uniform was approaching the door. After knocking, a beautiful red head in a slinky robe answered, leaning against the door frame suggestively. They conversed for only a moment before the woman pulled the man into the house and proceeded to strip him down.

"What the hell? You brought me to a porn theater! Do you know what people do here?"

Sam abruptly stood up and began to wipe the back of his jeans with his hand vigorously. The Devil laughed at the scene and stood up to stop Sam as he spun around to make sure his ass was clean.

"Don't worry Sammy. This is one of the cleanest theaters in the city. Less biological content then any other competitor. Besides, we're not here to watch a movie, we're here to see her."

The Devil extended a finger to the screen, indicating the red headed housewife. Her face was twisted in over exaggerated ecstasy, hair spilling in her eyes.

"Meet Starla Dreams, aka Gerta O'Malley. One of the biggest adult entertainment stars of the 70's, although back then you could still call them porn stars. Ms. O'Malley sold her soul in '71 and wanted me to make her a big celebrity. She didn't exactly elaborate so I took some . . . 'liberties' with her request. But man, did she enjoy it! Catholic girls like her were always the easiest to corrupt, though not as fun. Starla was always in the news and her films did big business, until her tragic death in '78. Never quite understood why porn stars have such ridiculous names. Names that just say to you 'I bang people for a living'."

Sam ignored the Devil's attempts to lighten the mood and was handed a plain tan folder and the Devil smiled, his grin bright in the dark theater.

"Seeing as how her former manager just turned up at the morgue, I'd say you better get moving on this one, Sammy."

Sam looked down and opened the folder, which contained information about Starla. He looked back up and found himself back in the locker room. Blinking against the change in light, Sam headed back out to the store to find Sock and Ben.

**SRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR**

Dean turned off the engine in the Impala and pulled the keys out of the ignition.

"Of course, someone has to die mysteriously the second we get within city limits."

Leaning back in the drivers seat, he watched Sam pull up the center console and start fishing through their stock of fake IDs. Finding one that suited their needs, he tossed one to Dean, who picked it up and threw back the leather flap.

"The CDC? What this guy die of? Lupus?"

Sam just stared at his brother for a moment, his face exuding the fact that he did not find the situation amusing, before grasping the door handle and exiting the car. Dean mirrored his movements and as they walked up to the dank little building, he attempted to straighten his tie. He absolutely hated getting into these monkey suits and he grumbled under his breath as the tie refused to stay straight. Sam hid a smile behind his hand but schooled his face as they walked into the coroner's office. Flashing their badges got them past the front desk and Sam and Dean took the elevators down to the morgue.

Stepping out from the lift, Dean turned the corner and was greeted to the site of a very hairy middle aged man lying naked on the cold metal slab. The Y incision had been stitched up and a chart lay across his generous belly.

"Excuse me, can I help you?"

Dean reacted first, pulling the badge out from the lining of his suit jacket and showing it to the medical examiner, Sam doing the same.

"I'm Rick Allen, this is my partner Steve Clark with the CDC. We're here to investigate the circumstances surrounding Mr. Greene's death."

The medical examiner, an elderly man with a bristly white mustache and a gleaming bald head crossed the distance between them and took each ID in his hands and brought them close to his face, squinting as he read the information. Harrumphing, he turned and motioned to the body.

"There was no apparent cause of death, but I doubt its anything that would pique the interest of the CDC. I'm still waiting for the toxicology report, but from the autopsy I can tell you there was no pathogens or bacterias evident in Mr. Greene. He was a healthy man, his cholesterol was a little high, but otherwise in good shape. His brain however told the whole story."

He turned and retrieved a pan from the tray of instruments and showed them the gray mass that was formerly Mr. Greene's brain. Sam tried not to gag at the sight of the organ and turned his vision away quickly, while Dean's lips lifted up into a sneer, though he kept his face on the pan and the M.E..

"The only time I have ever seen this kind of chemistry is when I get an elder gentleman who died mid coitus. The heart gives out under the strain but the brain is still pumped full of endorphins. Only in this man's case, he had four times the amount that the human body usually produces. Which is why I'm waiting for the tox screen to come back because this man had to be on something, despite the fact that he has no track marks anywhere on his body, nor in the lining of his nostrils."

Sam turned his head back around to look at the old man.

"So you're saying he died of an endorphin overdose?"

The M.E. shook his head slightly, waving his finger in the air.

"At this point in time, it's the only logical explanation. But when the reports come back, it will tell me what really happened."

Dean and Sam thanked him and quickly made their way back outside. Making their way back to the Impala, they jumped into the car and Dean put the keys back in the ignition.

"So the old guy said that something like that only shows up in horny old guys going for some afternoon delight. So whatever is doing this is killing people with the best orgasms ever?"

Sam ran a hand through his hair and silently cursed his brothers' ability to nutshell so colorfully.

"Not exactly. Endorphins are used to numb pain from injury and reward the brain for doing something it sends signals out for, including sex. But most demons don't want to give their victims joy while their killing them, so it's not going to be something run of the mill. I'll check dad's book to see if he ever encountered anything like this. We should find a library or a law clerks office to see if there have been other deaths like this in the area."

Dean pulled out his cellphone and connected to the internet to find the closest place to them. After a few minutes, he located the city law center and got directions to the building. Starting up the car, Dean pulled away from the coroner's office and merged into traffic.

**SRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR**

"You know Sock, Josie is going to start getting curious if we keep showing up and distracting her every time. Maybe we should just tell her I'm working for the Devil so that way when something like this happens again, we don't have to sneak around."

Sock stopped mid-step as they walked into the building where his ex-girlfriend worked.

"No, bad idea. Very bad. Josie is delicate and fragile and telling her something like that would just... not be good for her emotionally."

Ben laughed at Sock's sudden caring attitude and shared a look with Sam. Sock bent his head down and scratched at his wild mane of hair.

"And she already thinks that I may be slightly, kinda, a little mentally unbalanced as it is and telling her something like that would confirm her suspicions."

Sam sighed. He knew that Sock was still attracted to Josie, but the two were always at each others throats. Acts of kindness were surrounded by disbelief and paranoia and Sam, Ben and Andi all knew that their relationship would crash and burn eventually. Sam just didn't expect for Sock to still be so head over heels for her after all this time.

"Okay Sock, we'll keep the bounty hunter thing under wraps for now, but we can't keep doing this forever."

Sock nodded and the trio headed into the building and took the elevator up to Josie's floor. People poured off and on at each stop, crowding them to the back of the lift. At the second floor, Josie got on and went to hit the button for her floor when she noticed it was already lit and leaned back and looked over the the occupants. When her eyes landed on her ex and his two weird friends, her shoulders visibly sank. Sock cocked his eyebrows at her as they got off the lift together.

"What are you degenerates doing here? Do the words 'restraining order' mean anything to you?"

Ben and Sam appeared surprised at this and looked to Sock.

"I thought it was another way of saying 'I love you'."

Josie gave an exasperated groan and started walking away.

"What do you want?"

Sam stepped forward and began to walk with Josie, wanting to get them away from the crowds waiting for the elevators.

"What can you tell me about Starla Dreams?"

Josie spun on her heel and looked at Sam, Sock and Ben.

"Why am I not surprised that you guys want to know about some dead porn star. What, are the live ones not doing it for you anymore?"

Sam waved his arms around and shook his head vehemently.

"No! It's not like that. Someone said that she died a tragic death and I wanted to know what happened to her."

Josie reached into her pocket and pulled out the keys to her office and opened the door. They filed in after her and Ben shut the door.

"As far as I know, she tripped down her stairs and broke her neck, dying instantly. There was some suspicion around her manager at the time. They were apparently engaged at the time of her death, but there were rumors about him cheating on her with some new actress. The D.A. at the time looked into it, but since it was the '70's, there wasn't exactly a lot to go on at the time. The case was dropped, the manager moved his company out on the edge of town and her death was written off as an accident. No one really cared though, because her manager said she could be an uptight primadonna when she wanted to and didn't have a lot of friends."

Josie sat down at her desk and clasped her hands together.

"Class dismissed."

Sam and Ben thanked her, while Sock said nothing. As they walked back to the elevators, no one was around and as they waited, Ben bumped Sock's shoulder with his fist.

"She didn't really get a restraining order against you did she?"

Sock snorted but his gaze was on his shoes.

"No... She threatened to get one on me though. After the thing with buying her all that stuff to replace what I burned."

The doors opened and the lift was empty save for two older guys. Moving close to the back and huddling together, Ben looked at Sam.

"So what's our next move? I would say the manager, but seeing as he's on ice, that's a dead end. So to speak."

Sam opened up the file that the Devil had given him and flipped through a few pages.

"It says here that her manager, Mr. Greene has an office and production studio on the edge of town. Josie said that he moved out there after Starla's death. That may be where the soul is going next. Someone there has got to have more information on her death or know where this girl that Greene was cheating with is at. If she's killing off people who had something to do with her death, that's the best place to start."

Sock tapped his finger to his chin.

"Judging by the vessel the Devil gave you, a porn studio seems like a dead giveaway. These little hunts are usually a lot more difficult to pin down, so why all of the sudden is he not being as tight lipped and actually helping you?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders and closed the folder.

"Don't knock it, Sock. We are allowed to have one easy soul every now and then, right?"

The doors opened up and the three of them stepped out.

"Whatever you say, Sam."

They headed back outside to the car, unaware of the two sets of eyes following them.

**SRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR**

"Well, that was a waste of time."

Dean and Sam waited for the lift on the fourth floor. They had gone to the archives to look for any deaths that were similar to Greene's and finding none in the past thirty years, they dug deeper into the records, back before they were put onto a computer or microfilm. Dean and Sam now stunk of moldy books and dust and Dean swore he was seeing double from all the squinting he had to do to read the faded print. The elevator dinged and they stepped on, pressing the button to take them back to street level.

"Not really. We learned that there is no precedence for Greene's death, which means whatever is doing it is probably some new player."

Dean leaned back against the polished elevator wall.

"Either way, we're at a dead end. We have no way of knowing where this thing is going to strike next. That means we have to wait until the next one drops dead."

The lift stopped at the third floor and three kids got on. They hardly glanced in their direction before they huddled together in the back. Sam and Dean quit talking and waited until they got off to start planning their next move.

"It says here that her manager, Mr. Greene has an office and production studio on the edge of town."

Dean turned his head sharply to his brother to see if heard correctly. Sam's eyes widened at the group behind them but turned his head slightly, as if looking up at the floor indicator. Dean did the same, and tried to quiet the sound of his breathing in his ears so he could clearly hear them without missing something.

"Judging by the vessel the Devil gave you, a porn studio seems like a dead giveaway. These little hunts are usually a lot more difficult to pin down, so why all of the sudden is El Diablo not being as tight lipped and actually helping you?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at this and peered out if his periphery to look at Sam, who was wearing an expression of incredulity.

"Don't knock it, Sock. We are allowed to have one easy soul every now and then, right?"

Suddenly, the doors were opening and the group pushed past them to exit, not giving them a second glance. Dean and Sam were right behind, not wanting to lose them in the crowded lobby.

"Whatever you say, Sam."

The trio walked down the steps clerks office and got into an old station wagon parked across the street. Dean noted what direction they were going in as they hurried back to the Impala. Getting in, the car rumbled to life and they peeled off, not wanting to lose the group.

"Well, now you can't say going there was a waste of time, Dean."

* * *

Yes indeedy, feed the needy. Second chapter done. As of now, it looks like there will be two or three more chapters. And for anyone concerned, this is leaning more towards the Reaper side. I just had to give Dean and Sam more screen time to get them on the trail of our boys! Also, mad props to whoever guesses the band that the aliases Sam and Dean belonged to. 


	3. The Reveal ::Undercover::

Title: The Reveal

Author: DeMarcos

Summary: Sam, Ben and Sock infiltrate an adult filming studio to find out the escaped soul's next target while Sam and Dean are left waiting in the parking lot.

Notes: Ugh... Just got over a wicked case of food poisoning and I'm still all oogie... So sorry for the delay in getting this out there, but it's hard to type when your head is firmly ensconced in a porcelain deity. So, props to my girlies swampmusic and Lady of the Willows and to my reviewers. Now, onward!

* * *

"The Devil? As in _the_ Devil?"

Dean looked at his brother, an expression of incredulity coloring his features as the Impala took a corner smoothly, the station wagon a few blocks ahead of them. Sam was buckled into the passenger seat, flipping through their dad's book, searching for any reference to what they had overheard moments before.

"Well Dean, we know about the Pit, so it would seem obvious there is a Devil, but so far it seems Dad never ran across anything like this."

Sam flipped through the pages of the old book, skimming the pages before snapping it shut with a sigh. Shoving the book back in his shoulder bag and throwing it in the back, he turned his eyes to the road as the station wagon disappeared as it made a left turn. Dean pressed his foot to the accelerator to make sure they didn't lose their quarry.

"Okay, assuming that there really is a Devil, those guys were talking about being sent on a hunt. It kind of begs the question of why the Devil would send a group of his demons on a hunt."

The station wagon now back in their sights, Dean turned his head slightly to look at Sam.

"Considering all the hunters that are out killing his little friends, its not too entirely unbelievable that he has his own hunters now. Although..."

Dean focused on the road for a moment, collecting his thoughts before he spoke them out loud, making sure it made sense before Sam could shoot it down.

"Why would someone working for the Devil want to go after a man who's already dead. Doesn't seem very productive."

Sam bit his lip and thought about that. They would have had to know that Greene was sitting in the morgue, having already probably killed the man. There would be no reason for them to go back to his place of business.

"Not unless they were after a hunter who worked for Greene and they killed him by mistake. Now they would have to go back to find him. But then there is still the question of why they would kill a hunter with an endorphin overdose."

Dean snorted, his eyes never leaving the road or the car ahead of them.

"Does a demon ever need a reason to do anything? Remember, motives are incidental."

**SRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR**

Ben, Sock and Sam pulled into the sprawling parking lot at the edge of town, where most of the warehouses that manufactured and shipped goods out to the loading docks to be exported, stood like massive steel skeletons. They piled out of the car and strolled up the immaculate walkway, surrounded by a beautifully manicured lawn with rows of brightly colored flowers lining the concrete slabs. Ben was admiring the landscaping while Sam was taking in the building. It was a modest brick affair, only one story but extended for most of the block and pulling in to the expansive parking lot, they had passed a few private security cars patrolling through.

As they entered the main atrium, they saw that a few feet from the secretary's desk was a security desk, with two men in gray uniforms sitting, ones eyes on the front door and the others on the numerous little screens in front of him.

Sock leaned in next to Sam.

"Man, we are never going to get past these guys."

The bleach blond behind the counter looked up at them, here eyes merely rolling over Ben and Sock, but when she saw Sam, she sucked in a breath and tilted her upper body towards him, her hands gliding over the smooth surface of the wooden desk.

"Afternoon gentleman. Anything I can... do for you?"

She addressed all three of them, but her gaze never left Sam, who cleared his throat and lay down the file the Devil had given him, but never opened it. The secretary lifted a hand and tucked some of her bleached hair behind her ear and licked her lips.

"Uhm, my name is Sam and me and my associates run a adult industry magazine online. We just heard about Mr. Greene's death and we'd like to do a piece on him, you know, in memorial to all the things he did to further... the industry. We'd like to get some first hand testimonials and interviews from the people who knew him."

The woman squealed and jumped up, running out from behind the desk to all but leap at Sam. Entwining her arms around his, she pulled him away from the atrium, digging a key-card from the pocket of her black slacks and ran it through the card reader next to a set of large oak doors. The red light turned green and the doors popped open.

"My name is Brittany and I've known Mr. Greene since I started here a few months ago. He told me I was too sweet to work in front of the camera, which is what I originally applied here for. But this job is better and I got to know Christopher real well. I would be honored to give you an interview for his memorial piece."

The woman, who after taking a deep breath to refill before she went off on a tangent again, identified herself as Brittany and never relinquished her hold on Sam as she took them through the large office, where hundreds of employees sat talking on phones, selling whatever movie they were making next. After that was a large editing studio where technicians were dubbing out miscellaneous sounds and removing unsightly frames from the films.

Brittany key-carded through another section and Sam and Ben had to keep Sock from passing out as they entered the filming studio, where two girls were enthusiastically going at it on a set made up to look like a living room. Sock bit his fist and Sam could swear he saw a tear come to the large man's eye.

"I don't know which direction to give my thanks in, up or down."

Ben patted Sock's shoulder and tried not to look at the sight before him.

"Thank man's sexual deviancy."

Sock nodded and tilted his head as the two performing ladies achieved a very difficult position. Ben, who was pretending to not look, mirrored Sock's movement and scrunched up his face.

"That's not natural."

Brittany, who hadn't either hadn't heard them or didn't care, kept on talking, but was speaking in a whisper, as not to have her voice picked up on the boom mike. After fifteen minutes, the two girls finished and the directed called 'cut'. The words barely left his mouth before production assistants rushed the stage, robing the actresses and straighting the set for the next scene. Brittany giggled and dragged them up to the set. The two actresses who were walking away, one a brunette and the other a natural blond, turned back and made a beeline towards Sam.

"Hey Brittany, who you got there?"

Brittany narrowed her eyes and her grip on Sam tightened. Sock made a sound like an angry cat quietly behind him.

"This is Sam, he asked me to give him a tour and do an interview for a memorial piece on Mr. Greene."

The brunette gave Brittany a tight smile and took Sam's other arm.

"Well, if you're giving him a tour, then who is doing your job?"

Brittany huffed and looked like she was going to say something but turned to Sam with her green eyes wide.

"If I leave you here to get some blurbs, you'll come back to the atrium for my interview, right?"

Sam nodded vigorously and as soon as Brittany left his side, he was flanked by the two actresses, who led him back to the green room, Sock and Ben in tow. They motioned for him to sit in the center of the large couch and then both perched almost in his lap. He looked to Sock and Ben for help, but they were too busy staring at the other actors and actresses milling around the room to notice.

After an hour of talking with the stars of the movie in production, having drinks and joking around with them, they learned that Edward was uncomfortable doing three way scenes with another man in the mix, Naughtia thought the new makeup the artists were using made her look fat on camera and Cherry was creeped out that they still had to work even though their boss had died. Sam was now surrounded by all the actresses, who were pawing all over him like felines in heat over a tom cat. Ben motioned for him to take the opening and start asking questions.

"So, uh, what do you think about Christopher's death? I mean, it was kind of sudden, right? You don't think he was murdered or anything?"

Sock began to slightly shake his head, telling Sam he had been a little too obvious.

"I mean, because I heard a rumor that he might have killed someone back in the day, so..."

The actors all looked at each other for a moment before Edward, the buff star of the film so eloquently titled _Cherry Picking_ after the lead actress Cherry Stemmz, gazed back at Sam and lowered his voice. The others leaned in to listen.

"What I heard is that back when Chris got his first big break directing decades ago, he started seeing Starla, the star of his major movie. Had a good thing going, but Starla got too demanding and wanted to direct her own movies and cut Chris out, which was unheard of back then and that's when he threw her down the stairs."

One of the girls on Sam's left shook her head and pointed at Edward.

"I heard that too but not like that. After she became a total psycho primadonna, she caught Chris and some newcomer in their bed. There was a huge argument where Chris said he was dropping Starla as the lead in his next movies and replacing her with the girl he was screwing and two other younger girls. Starla got livid and she said she was going to take over Chris' career and ruin him. Apparently she had something over him and he flipped and pushed her down the stairs."

All at once, they started arguing with each other, their voices rising ever louder. Sock finally had to put two fingers in his mouth and whistle shrilly to get them to quiet down.

"Okay sports fans, everyone gets a turn to speak."

Sock smiled and motioned to Cherry, who was perched on the arm of the couch most of the women were crowded on.

"It wasn't Chris who killed her, it was Dina, the woman he was cheating on Starla with. Her career was just starting, mainly because she was boning Chris and here comes Starla, this big time actress, catching her with the director and tells her that she is going to end Dina before she even got started. So Starla and Dina are screaming at each other, they end up in the hallway and Dina pushes her down the stairs. Chris orders Dina to leave, calls the cops and says it was an accident."

A red head leaned over and tapped Cherry's knee.

"You don't mean Dina Greene? He married the woman who killed his girlfriend? Sick."

Cherry nodded at the question.

"Not to mention that they still live there in that house. That's just beyond creepy."

Sam, Sock and Ben all shared a look. Sam then peered at all the girls surrounding him and sighed.

"Well ladies, I think I have what I need to write that article. So we're going to go... and write it."

A chorus of depressed moans filled the room and they all started pawing at Sam again. Fighting his way through the jungle of limbs surrounding him, he stood up, bumped fists with Edward and he, Ben and Sock quickly left. They retraced their way back to the atrium, Sam stopping to get Brittany's contact information for her 'interview' before they hauled ass back to the station wagon. Once they got to the car, Sock began searching for his keys while Ben and Sam conversed over the roof of the car.

"Greene's widow has got to be the soul's next target. Does the file say where he lived?"

Sam opened the folder and flipped through the pages. There were police reports, crime scene photos and basic information but no address for Christopher Greene. Sam closed the folder and groaned.

"No... Leave it to the Devil to send us on a hunt and not give us a victim's home address. Dammit! I'll just go back inside and ask Brittany if she can give it to me."

Sock found his keys and turned to Sam.

"Dude, check the police report. The cops have to list the location of death in the thing for case records."

Sam could have kissed Sock when he opened the folder back up and the address right there on top of the report, but was stopped by a barrel of a sawed off shotgun being shoved into his face. Attached to the end of the shotgun was a man with short cropped dark blond hair who couldn't have been much taller than Sam. On the other side of the car was a taller man with eye length brown hair wielding a large 9mm at Sock and Ben, who had their hands in the air.

"Oh, crap."

**SRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR**

After parking the Impala aways back from the station wagon, Sam and Dean made sure to keep a low profile when passing the rent a cops rolling through the parking lot and made their way up to the main atrium, mindful of the security cameras dotting the roof of the offices. Through the clear glass that made up the entrance to the building, they saw a woman come out from behind a desk and ecstatically lead the trio into the heart of the production studio.

Stopping before they reached the doors, Dean feigned taking a cellphone call as the security guards watching them through the atrium windows and the two of the retreated back to the Impala.

"Did you see that guy? He didn't pull out a badge or anything and that girl was all over him. Practically dragged him back to the offices. Got to be a demon because nobody is that good."

Sam was well aware that his brother prided himself on being a ladies man and his ability to get information out of almost any female using only his charms and misdirection and seeing somebody else do the same without even trying must have got to him.

"Let's just wait til they come back out so we can figure out what they are up to."

An hour and ten minutes later, Dean had put together a pattern of the security patrols that would have enabled him to sneak on the premises unseen and had already spotted the hole in the camera system while Sam did the crossword in the paper they had picked up earlier. Dean thumped his head against the steering wheel.

"This is why I hate stakeouts! The waiting is brutal! What could they possibly be doing in there?"

Sam wrote in the answer for the question he was on and then turned to look at Dean, stress coloring his features as he pounded on the wheel.

"This is Greene's filming studio for all his smut videos. They may be demons, but I'm sure they still like a little play on the side. And you're just jealous you're not back their with all the actresses."

Dean shifted his forehead on the wheel of the car to look at Sam, pausing only a moment before flipping him off. Sam just laughed and turned back to the paper. Ten minutes later, he caught sight of the three men leaving the building quickly. He and Dean leapt out of the car, weapons at the ready and Sam's bag of holy water, salt and the spell-book Bobby had given them was slung around his shoulder as they crept up to the station wagon and took up hiding around the two vehicles on either side of the car, staying within line of sight with each other.

"Greene's widow has got to be the soul's next target. Does the file say where he lived?"

They didn't know who had spoke, but they did hear a rustle of papers followed by a disgruntled groan. Dean motioned for Sam to be ready to get the drop on them. Sam nodded and turned his attention back to the conversation.

"No... Leave it to the Devil to send us on a hunt and not give us a victim's home address. Dammit! I'll just go back inside and ask Brittany if she can give it to me."

Sam's eyes widened at the mention of the Devil again and wondered what kind of demons these guys were.

"Dude, check the police report. The police have to list the location of death in it for case records."

At that, Dean gave the signal and Sam came around the car, his hand gun trained on the bigger guy with the crazy hair and the dark skinned kid with the nice shirt and tie. They put their hands up immediately and Sam could clearly see the fear in their eyes. He chanced a look at Dean and saw that his brother had his shotgun trained right between the eyes of other one, who looked almost as scared, but less than shocked at having a gun pointed at him.

"Oh, crap."

* * *

Woohoo! Still feel a little woozy, but I got my saltines and ginger ale to help keep me focused. So the two groups finally meet... I'll spare you the cliché cliffhanger questions for now though I will say that those ridiculous names I used for the porn stars, while not real ones, are pretty damn close to the real thing. There are a lot of bizzaro names out there so don't think me corny and uncreative. 


	4. The Revelation ::Misconceptions::

Title: The Revelation

Author: DeMarcos

Summary: Dean and Sam hold up Sam, Sock and Ben while the soul claims another victim.

Notes: Again, not much to say here. I've fully recovered from my food poisoning and am back at work. I'd say 'yay' but I doubt I could convey the immense sarcasm that would come with the exclamation. Anyways, mucho lovings to Lady of the Willows and swampmusic, who has been neglecting her cards again. Shame, shame! Now readers, onwards!

* * *

Sam grunted as he was thrust up against the station wagon with Sock and Ben, the tall man with the dark hair keeping him and Ben pinned to the vehicle while the short haired man with the shotgun patted down Sock, finding a butane lighter, a wad of singles, the scraps of paper with numbers scrawled on them and his chewed up ID. The man snorted as he made out the name on the license through the bite marks before he laid everything he found in Sock's pockets on the hood of the car and moved to Ben.

"Hey man, you don't have a search warrant! This is illegal!"

He just ignored Ben, shoving him sharply into the side of the car to shut him up before searching him. In his left front pocket, he found a small silver jiffy cutter the Work Bench issued to all its employees, with the store logo stamped onto the handle and his slim black wallet. The man flipped through the credit cards and the cash before throwing it together with Sock's stuff and turned to Sam. Pulling the file out of his hands, Sam could hear him flipping through the pages. Sam suddenly remembered he still had the vessel in his pocket.

Not knowing what would happen if whoever these guys were took the vessel, he tried to turn around but was restrained by the taller one. The shorter one looked back up at him and smirked.

"Anxious to get somewhere are we?"

Setting the folder down, he proceeded to pat Sam down, pulling out the same type of jiffy cutter Ben had, one or two of the numerous little slips of paper he had given Sock earlier at the Bench that day, his wallet and the vessel. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ben and Sock starting to panic. Turning around quickly, he saw the man holding his wallet in one hand and the horridly pink vessel in the other. He shared a shocked look with his taller friend before turning his gaze back to Sam.

"I don't even want to know why you are walking around with a vibrator in your pocket. Is that how you demons are getting your jollies these days? Givin' your victims a little slap and tickle before you kill 'em?"

It was Sam, Ben and Sock's turn to share a look as the man flipped open his wallet. Then, throwing everything into the pile on the car, he took back the shotgun he had given to his friend.

"So, Bert, Ben and Sam. Usually we just waste demons like you, a little Latin, some rock salt. Poof. Dead. However, me and my brother overheard you guys talking some nonsense about the Devil and we figured before we killed your sorry asses, you might do some explaining."

He motioned between the three of them with the barrel of his shotgun but Sock and Ben kept their mouths shut, waiting for Sam to make a move. Sam on the other hand, was furiously debating what his options were. The Devil had already warned him that anyone he told about their contract wouldn't be well off in the end if they got on his radar. He also wasn't too anxious to talk to a guy pointing a shotgun at him either.

"You little piggies can start squealing any time now."

Sam took a step forward towards the man with the shotgun and cleared his throat.

"You just performed an illegal search on three strangers and are threatening our lives with deadly weapons. And unless you want me to start screaming bloody murder at that security patrol about to roll up on us, I suggest you leave me and my friends alone and let us do our jobs."

The two men swung their heads around to look at a patrol car slowly making its way to where they were standing. Sam took the moment they were distracted to rush the tall one, knocking him to the ground roughly as Ben kicked his leg up, sending the shotgun flying out of the short man's hands. Then, all three of them scattered and ran like cockroaches when the light-switch was flicked on. Sock ran a few feet behind Sam who was ducking and weaving through the rows of parked cars. Bending down behind a large SUV, they peered around the side and saw the two psychos stand and split up.

"Sock, I want you to sneak back to the car and start it up. I'll find Ben and we'll try to distract them until you can come and get us. Do you think you can do that?"

Sam stared at Sock, who had begun to nervously laugh looking back and forth between his friend and his car. Sam had to put a hand over Sock's mouth to keep the sound from alerting the two searching for them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ben dart between the cars a few feet away. Removing his hand, he patted Sock's shoulder and took off to get Ben, making sure he wasn't spotted as he ran.

"Ben! Come on, we need to give Sock time to get back to the car so we can get out of here!"

Before Ben could respond, he grabbed at his shirt and pulled him up from the asphalt and sprinted out into the parking lot. The long haired guy spotted them and ran to catch them, his friend right behind him. Grip still on Ben's sleeve, Sam steered them back around a pick up truck away from the station wagon. Hearing the engine start up, Sam and Ben continued through the lined up cars, narrowly missing the short ones outstretched arm as he attempted to clothes-line him. Losing his balance and bendng forward, his face almost hit the pavement, but Ben managed to yank him back up before he fell and the two of them put some distance between them and their would-be hostage takers.

The station wagon came into view, the passenger side door swinging open as Sock barreled down on them, tires squealing loudly. Changing their direction so they were running towards the two psychos, Sock pulled up along side of them and Ben dove into the car, followed by Sam who grabbed a hold of the door and was going to shut it before an idea raced through his mind and he opened it back up to knock down the shorter one as they passed them before slamming it shut.

Sock let out a sharp victory yell as he saw the guy go down in the rear-view mirror. Ben and Sam let out heavy breathes of air as Sock drove them out of the production parking lot and back onto the main roads.

"That was so awesome Sam! I think you might have broken that guys nose. That's what he gets for messing with the Devil's bounty hunter!"

Sam would have laughed had he not been terrified at what had just happened. Those guys had known about him working for the Devil, they had said they had been eavesdropping on them but they didn't know about the vessel. When the short guy had taken the vessel from Sam, he had almost panicked.

"Dude, where's the vessel?"

Sock jerked his thumb in the direction of the back seat, Sam spinning around to see everything that had been taken from them thrown in haphazardly before Sock started the car. Sam twisted himself over the seats into the back and picked up the pink vibrator, sliding it back in his pocket before handing Ben his wallet. The folder the Devil had given him was bent and the pages were spilling out onto the floor. Scooping up the file, he told Sock to head towards Greene's house.

Ben turned around to look at Sam, slumped down in the seat, tension and stress evident on his face.

"While those guys were threatening us, did you happen to pay attention to anything they said?"

Sock snorted loudly.

"I was more focused on the gun pointed at my melon, though I know they wanted Sam to tell them about the Devil. Why?"

Ben shook his head, wondering how he was so lucky to end up these two as his best friends.

"They called us demons, Sock. They said that they waste demons like us. Didn't you think that was just a little odd? How many people call us that, you know, besides my grandmother?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention to the passing scenery. He was curious as to why they had been called demons, but getting away from their would be captors and catching the soul before it killed anyone else had been a more pressing concern. Ben and Sock argued after Sam remained silent on the issue, debating on the importance of the whole situation as Sam watched the houses they passed get nicer and nicer, the upscale mansions towering over them and making the beat up station wagon look extremely out of place.

Pulling into a large cul-de-sac, Sock pulled into a driveway on the left, parking the car far back enough not to draw any more attention to them but not all the way around the house in case they needed to make a quick getaway. As Sock turned the engine off, they noticed two cars parked in a garage that was detached from the rest of the house. Piling out of the car, the three of them hurried to the front porch and Sam pulled open the screen door to knock on the heavy, oak door. They waited, but no one came to answer the door. Pounding on the door, Sock and Ben moved to peek in the large bay windows, but the curtains were drawn shut.

"Someones got to be here, their cars are here."

Heading back around the house, trying to find a window they could peer into, they ascended the patio stairs and rushed to the sliding glass doors, the only view into the house that wasn't obstructed by curtains. It looked into the kitchen, where they could see a chopping block with vegetables piled on it, a green bell pepper sliced in two, the knife lying on the linoleum floor. Ben yanked at the sliding door and gave a silent thanks when it opened up immediately.

Sam ran in first, bypassing the kitchen to walk into the large dining room. The walls were lined with large china hutches containing little dishes and cups or tiny figurines. There were some papers spread out on the table and a cursory glance told them they were the power of attorney and will papers for Christopher Greene.

Suddenly, at once there was a roar of an engine outside in the distance and a thump that came from above them. Bolting into the main foyer of the house, a beautifully designed staircase that curved slightly as it went upwards stood before the three men and at the top of the stairs was who they assumed to be Greene's widow, Dina and none other than the soul of Starla Dreams, both of her hands embedded in Dina's skull, her fingers disappearing into the flesh and hair.

Hand diving into his pocket to pull out the vessel, Sam yelled at Starla, his voice echoing through the foyer. Starla tossed her head up and gazed down at the intruders. She disengaged her hands from Dina's head and the widow folded like a house of cards at the knees and tumbled backwards down the stairs. There was a sickening crack that filled the house as Dina's neck broke on her way down. Ben and Sock jumped to catch her body as it rolled down to the landing.

As her face became visible to them, they all could see an odd little smile playing on her features, her eyes staring unseeing on them. Sam turned his attention back to Starla, who was making her way quickly down the stairs. She was wearing the remains of a disco era black dress, torn ruffles on her one shoulder and it looked as if she had literally been through hell and back. Before she could reach Sam, he pointed the vessel at her but nothing happened.

Starla threw her head back and laughed, which did not echo off the foyer walls and sent chills down their spines.

"Dude, you have to turn it on!"

Ben hissed at Sam as he and Sock were bent over Dina's body. Starla had not heard him through her loud cackle and Sam groaned inwardly and twisted the bottom of the vibrator, bringing it to life. It felt odd in Sam's hands, the tiny vibrations running down his arm and through his whole body. A bright red light shot out of the tip of the vessel and was streaking towards Starla when Sam was abruptly tackled to the ground, sending the vessel flying out of his hand and down the hall.

Twisting around, Sam saw the short blond guy from earlier holding him to the ground. He had a cocky smile on his face and just behind him, Sam could see his friend coming around the corner.

"You idiot!"

**SRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR**

Sam watched as the station wagon sped out of the parking lot and groaned. Looking down at Dean, who was laid out on the pavement, unconscious with a bleeding cut on his forehead, Sam hung his head. Bending down, he smacked his brother on the cheeks to rouse him, keeping an eye out for the security patrol. A minute later, Dean woke with a jerk and moan of pain. Sam stood and extended a hand to pull Dean to his feet. Grasping his head, Dean cursed loudly.

"What the hell was that!"

Leading Dean back to the car, Sam suppressed a laugh. Personally, it had been quite a sight to see the open car door bearing down on Dean, his feet coming out from underneath him as his back connected with the unforgiving asphalt. The triumphant yell that emanated from the car had put a cap on the whole event. Of course, he would never tell his brother that, his ego was wounded enough. Getting back to the Impala, Sam opened the passenger door and pulled out the first aid kit they kept under the seats.

Dean leaned against the car as Sam cleaned the blood off his face and bandaged the cut.

"It was all kind of fast. Did you see which one hit me in the face with the car door?"

Sam could hear the undercurrent in his brother's voice that said whoever had done it was going to pay dearly. Tipping the small bottle of alcohol over to saturate a piece of gauze, Sam brought it up and wiped at the cut, Dean hissing slightly.

"The short skinny one with the spiky hair."

Dean snorted.

"Sam."

Sam pulled away the gauze and threw it on the ground, pulling out the roll of clear surgical tape and the cloth bandage.

"What?"

Dean looked at his brother and then it dawned on him and he smiled sardonically.

"Not you Sam, him Sam. That's his name. The kid who bowled me over. Sam, Bert and Ben. The Devil's little trio."

Sam just shook his head as he put the bandage over Dean's cut and he could tell the area around was going to bruise. Leaning back, Sam closed up the kit and threw it back in the car. Dean stood up and went over to the driver's side, getting in the car and pulling the door shut. Sam got in as well and they looked at each other.

"They said they were going to the widow's house."

Sam raised his eyebrows as Dean continued to sit there, not turning the car on and going after the boys. Dean looked back at his brother.

"I don't know where she lives, Sammy. I'm not the psychic."

Sam nodded, feeling like an idiot as he pulled out his phone and got directions to Greene's house. Then, they roared out of the parking lot and onto the expressway. The drive was silent, except for Sam, who had called Bobby to see if he knew anything about what was happening. Sam groaned and thrust his cell back in his pocket.

"I got his voice-mail. I just can't believe that there is nothing in Dad's book about the Devil. You'd think that because the idea of Lucifer, Pan or any of the other names and images he's had has been present throughout history, there would be something about him somewhere. But all I could find online was a bunch of goth and Church of Satan websites or resource sites that only tell us what we already know. It doesn't make a lot of sense, considering what we know about the Pit."

Dean pondered this as they exited the freeway and pulled into a community of large foreboding mansions. Sam directed them through the winding streets when from the backseat they heard a high pitched whir. Confused, Sam turned around to see what had made the noise as Dean kept his eyes on the road. The whir came again and Sam lifted up one of their hoodies and a plastic grocery bag to see their homemade EMP lighting up.

Whipping his head around, Sam looked at Dean and waved around the EMP. Cursing again, Dean put his foot to the floor, the Impala's engine roaring loudly and the tires squealed as they sped up towards Greene's house. As the cul-de-sac appeared ahead of them, Dean spun the wheel and the back end fishtailed as they turned into the driveway. Pulling up, they saw the station wagon parked in front of them. Leaping out of the car, Sam and Dean headed up the patio stairs, guns drawn.

The sliding glass door was wide open and they could hear something thumping from inside the mansion. Dashing in, they snuck through the kitchen and dining room and rounded the corner in the main foyer. They saw Sam pointing that awful pink vibrator at some woman while his two friends were stooped on the floor around another woman. The chunky one with the crazy hair had his hand on the lady's head and as Dean looked closer, he could see that her neck was broken.

All of the sudden, there was a burst of red light and Sam was brandishing the vibrator again, where the light was emanating from. The light was directed at the other woman and in a split decision, Dean launched himself across the room to tackle Sam. The boy was slight under his arm, though it took all of Dean's strength to bring him down. Air whooshed from his mouth as he hit the floor and Dean made sure he was covered so he could not get up and escape again. Sam turned in his hold with a shocked expression on his face and Dean couldn't help but smirk at the payback for the car door.

"You idiot!"

Before Dean could reply, there was an eerie laughter and Dean could tell it was from the woman Sam had threatened. Tilting his head around, he saw the woman with her head thrown back before she disappeared in a poof of what seemed to be glitter. Stunned into silence, Dean could only look at his brother with his jaw wide open. From beneath him, Sam kicked his leg's, trying to throw the heavier man off before Dean felt two sets of hands on his arms, Sam's friends trying to yank him off their friend.

Standing up, smacking away their hands, Dean felt his brother come up beside him as Sam scrambled across the floor to retrieve the vibrator that Dean's body slam had knocked from his hands. Sam bumped his elbow into Dean's ribs and quirked an eyebrow at the action. Dean just shrugged his shoulders and turned his head back to the scene unfolding before them.

"Does somebody want to explain to me what the fuck just happened?"

**SRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR**

Sam paused as he stood back up from retrieving the vessel, Sock and Ben beside him, almost acting like a shield from the two weirdos. The taller one appeared extremely confused as he gazed between the three of them while his friend just looked really pissed off. Sam was tired of dealing with these monkeys and marched over to the two of them, ignoring Sock and Ben's words and attempts to pull him back.

"Yeah, I'll tell you what's going on! You two morons just let a violent, homicidal soul escape, probably off to kill more innocent people! Does that explain it for you or would you like me to draw you a picture?"

The shorter one actually took a step back and threw up his hands while his taller companion stared at Sam, dumbstruck. Sam just put the vessel back in his pocket and turned back to Sock and Ben.

"Uh, by soul, what exactly do you mean?"

Sam saw Ben and Sock shake their heads at the question but Sam really didn't care about the consequences at that particular moment. Looking back, he saw that the taller one had asked the question, so he stared right up at him.

"A soul, do you not know the definition of that word? The essence of a person that remains after their body has expired, sent to either one of two places. The one you bumbling idiots let loose happened to be one that managed to escape from hell. It's my job to send them back there so they don't kill anyone. Again, would you like a picture drawn?"

The sarcasm dripped from his voice, which didn't happen often and Sock knew that any more of this and the usually cool and collected Sam would pop his top. Coming up behind his friend, Sock laid a hand on his shoulder and he could feel some of the tension and anger slip from Sam.

"Did these souls suddenly start appearing a few months ago?"

Sam shook his head and put his hands on his hips.

"No, not to my knowledge, although I've only been on the job since last year. But there apparently are others like me doing the same thing. Why?"

The two brothers shared an odd look but the apprehension disappeared from the taller one while the shorter one seemed to put down his guard only a little.

"So you guys are hunters?"

Sam felt Sock remove his hand from his shoulder, the psychological and emotional support it offered going with it. He didn't know how to answer this question. Yes, he was a bounty hunter for hell but did that fall under the general term of 'hunter'? What did these guys know about it anyway? Bounty hunters used vessels to capture souls, but these guys had nothing on them but guns. Then again, this was his job, not theirs. They wouldn't have a vessel to begin with.

"Maybe. Depends on what you mean."

The taller one smiled and shook his head, then extended his hand towards Sam.

"I'm Sam and this is my brother, Dean. We're hunters too."

Sam took the pro-offered hand and shook it quickly, not knowing what else to do.

"I'm Sam too, though since you guys took our IDs, you probably knew that already. These are my friends, Sock and Ben."

He indicated to each of them in turn then put his hands back on his hips, his posture shifting from being asked questions to the interrogator.

"If you guys are hunters, why did you threaten us earlier?"

Dean scratched his head abashedly while Sam managed a tight smile.

"We ran into you guys at the clerk's office in the elevators and we overheard you guys talking about the Devil. We just assumed you were on the other side and were trying to kill people, especially since you were talking about Greene. Sorry about the confusion."

As he spoke, Sam backed up, bumping into Ben and Sock. Sam trailed off as he spoke, noticing the defensive actions being taken. Stepping forward, arms open, he looked questioningly at the three of them.

"What? What's wrong?"

Sam swallowed and looked between each of his friends, the options they had narrowing.

"The Devil... You're hunters, but you don't work for the Devil. H-How is that possible?"

Dean's guard went back up at the question and surreptitiously reached behind his back for his gun, keeping his palm on it for a quick draw. Sam knew his brothers moves like the back of his hand and kept the line of dialog open.

"You work for the Devil? You really work for the Devil?"

Sam shrugged and laughed feebly.

"Yeah... I thought that all hunters worked for the Devil. So how is it that you don't?"

Sam waved a hand, both a signal to his brother to keep from getting trigger happy and to clear the jumble of his own mind. This was all becoming too much for him to understand and he sincerely wished that they had gotten a hold of Bobby.

"Earlier, you said it was your job to capture souls and send them back to hell. How can you do that _and_ work for the Devil?"

Eyebrows knitted together, Sam looked at Dean and Sam in confusion. What they were asking made no sense.

"Because He hired me to. I thought that's how it worked."

Sam turned to face his brother, his eyes wide with a multitude of emotions. Looking back at Sam and his friends, he crossed his arms.

"You were hired by the _Devil_, to hunt down escaped souls and send them back to hell?"

Sam nodded his head as if this were the most natural thing in the world. Sam just laughed at the audacity of it all.

"I think we need to talk more."

* * *

Okay, for all the sticklers out there, yes I know that the season premiere of Supernatural and the series premiere of Reaper aired around the same time, but given that there was only a couple of weeks of a gap between the finale and the fact that the original Reaper pilot was shot in March, I'm presuming that Sam has been a bounty hunter for at least three months before the Devil's Gate was opened. DeMarcos Reckoning is back in effect (for those of you that don't know, I've employed this in my FMA and Psych stories to determine times of critical occurrence)! And sorry for the delay in getting this out there, my friend held the DDR championships the other day and I had to go and defend my title. 


	5. The Meeting ::Dangerous Liaisons::

Title: The Meeting

Author: DeMarcos

Summary: The boys have a pow-wow and wreak some havoc.

Notes: Sorry for the massive delay for finishing this off, but we had two people quit at the same time and guess who had to fill their shifts:points to self: I had practically no time to do anything, let alone sit down and scratch this out. So, with many apologies, here is the final chapter!

* * *

Sam leaned back in his desk chair and looked at the stunned faces of Dean and his brother Sammy, who Dean had demanded bite the bullet and go by his nickname for the time being because the situation was already confusing enough to begin with, without having two voices chorus when someone called their names. Sammy grit his teeth and nodded, his posture radiating aggravation as Sam launched into the story that led to him chasing after renegade souls on a semi-daily basis, Sock and Ben throwing in colorful comments on the various souls they had to hunt.

As they laid the story out on them, their faces went from indifferent shock to calculating as Sam told them about his regular run-ins with the Devil himself. They had holed themselves up in Sam's room, Dean and Sammy taking position on his bed, Sock and Ben sitting on an old footlocker set up against the adjacent wall. Dean rubbed a hand over his mouth and looked squarely at Sam.

"So instead of some lesser demon handing off these little assignments, the Devil actually takes time to sit and chat with you before sending you off?"

Sam nodded, not understanding why the two brothers were so interested in the Devil.

"Why is he so interested in you?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders and motioned at Ben and Sock with his hand.

"We have tried to figure that out but we can never seem to get a peg on him. He tortures me and sets me up for murder, than gives me my contract when I asked for it. Which was another form of torture considering it took three hours to sign for the damn thing."

Dean and Sammy whipped their heads around to look at each other for a nano second before Dean cleared his throat.

"The Devil gave you your contract? Just like that?"

Sam seemed confused, but nodded his head slowly.

"My dad has it. Said he would look it over to see if there was a loophole or something that would let me get out of it. Not to be rude though, we have a soul running around murdering people and we have no idea where she's going to hit next. So unless you two are going to help us..."

Dean jumped up from the bed and waved his hands around.

"No, no. You're right. Hunt now, questions later."

Sammy stood up to join his brother.

"I can go get my laptop so we can determine possible places for the soul to strike. I developed this program..."

There was a knock on the door and Mrs. Oliver stuck her head through the door. Upon seeing so many people in her sons room, she raised her eyebrows and stepping inside.

"Hi sweety. Would you and your... guests like some refreshments?"

Sock stood up from the edge of the foot locker and walked over to sling his arms around Mrs. Oliver's shoulder.

"You know, that would be lovely. And I think I'm going to go down and help you prepare those refreshments. Because we are large strapping men who need lots of caffeine and saturated fats."

As he spoke, Sock led Mrs. Oliver out of the room and down the stairs, followed by Sammy who went to retrieve his computer. While rooting around the backseat of the Impala for the power cord, his cell began to ring. Grabbing the cord from under one of Dean's faux designer suits, Sammy ducked out of the car and reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve the phone. The screen indicated one of the aliases of Bobby, in case the phone came into the wrong hands. Flipping it open, he brought the speaker to his ear.

"I just got your message. Where are you?"

Sammy kicked the car door shut and started walking down the driveway to make sure no one overheard him.

"Dean and I are in Seattle. We got a hit on a hot spot up here and ran into something else. Have you ever heard of a bounty hunter for Hell?"

Bobby whistled lowly and the sound of rustling papers and books being open and shut were heard.

"A reaper? Haven't heard of an active one for a decade or so. They're really rare, usually four or five working at one time around the globe. Tell me you didn't run into one of them."

Sammy sighed and leaned up against the Oliver's mailbox.

"Yeah, tried to kill him actually. We thought he was responsible for some murders that cropped up. Turns out he was hunting an escaped homicidal soul. We offered to help him out to kinda make up for shoving a shotgun in his face."

Bobby swore under his breath.

"Sam, these guys are dangerous. Not only can the experienced ones easily take on you and Dean by themselves, they have knowledge and powers that could rival any hunter we know of and they are very closely watched by their employer. In almost every _real_ testimonial from people who claim to see people talking to the Devil, the human is either someone selling their soul or his hunters. It almost the only contacts he has up here. And with you and Dean's reputations, this reaper is not someone you two want to be around."

Sammy shook his head.

"The way this kid tells it, he's only been on the job a few months. Nothing more than an amateur, Bobby. Though... He did ram into Dean with the door of a moving car. But he said that the Devil gave him his contract when he asked for it. Dean wants to see if this guy can arrange to get a copy of his contract with the crossroads demon, see if there's a loophole."

There was a loud thump and Sammy knew that Bobby had slammed his fist down on the table.

"Listen Sam, I know you have a brain rolling around in that skull of yours and I want you to use it! If this kid has only been active for a few months, that means his boss will be breathing down his neck more than ever until he learns the ropes. This guy was chosen to work for Hell's side for a reason! Just because he's new to the game doesn't mean he's not clever enough to do his job. You want to help him catch a soul, that's fine. But once you are done, you get the hell out of Dodge."

Bobby didn't even give Sammy a chance to reply before he hung up. He knew his paranormal history, which is why they went to him for help. If he was scared, Sammy knew there was a damn good reason. Shifting off the mailbox, Sammy saw golden stickers bearing the numerals 667 on the side of the plastic shell. He chuckled and shook his head, amused by the irony of the whole thing and headed back inside before his was missed.

**SRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR**

Sock chugged down a glass of iced tea, then tapped the melted ice cubes into his mouth and chewed on them loudly. Ben gave him an aggravated look before turning back to the laptop.

"We've gone over the list of people Greene employed a dozen times. There are no names matching anyone who worked on Starla's movies. No associates or business partners either. There has got to be something we are missing."

Sam slammed the folder he was given shut and threw himself back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling.

"She has no living relatives and neither does Greene. Who could she be going after?"

Sock chucked a hackey sack at Sam's head, causing him to jerk back up.

"Maybe she offed everybody she was going to. If there is no one left, who's to say she's not kicking back right now, bumping uglies with some young stud?"

Dean made a gagging sound and glared at Sock.

"Dude, that's disgusting!"

Sam stood up and said he was going to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind him, he walked over to the sink and stared intently at his reflection. There was something he was missing, but with too many eyes staring at the same thing, he couldn't figure out what it was with everyone bouncing theories off each other. Turning around to the toilet, Sam suddenly found himself in the maternity ward of a hospital.

The Devil stood, impeccable as ever, in front of the large glass window looking in on the nursery. Sam walked over to him and took in at the dozens of little faces staring back at them.

"So many new souls with the potential do anything they want. And many who will grow up to be absolutely nothing. Which is where I come in, of course."

Sam groaned.

"Isn't it a bit early to be poisoning the well?"

The Devil laughed heartily and waved a crooked finger at one of the bassinets. He then turned to Sam and fixed a hard glare on him.

"No harm in checking on the new crop, you know. But speaking of taint, I don't like the new friends that you've made, Sam. Real bad apples that you're associating with. I don't like the idea of you talking to people who make it a habit of destroying all the hard work I do and the minions I have doing it. I saw what they did to you in the parking lot. A real violation of you're Fourth Amendment rights. And rumor has it I know a few good lawyers who could sue the pants off those heathens."

Sam laughed sardonically and moved away from the display glass.

"Like it or not, they are helping us find this soul which is not something I can say the same for you. And if I have to get help from people you don't really like, hey, I'm just doing my job."

The Devil laid a hand on Sam's shoulder and smiled.

"Everything you need to find where Starla is going next is in that folder. You're just so busy looking at the obvious that you're not reading the fine print. So there is no reason to be dealing with those psychos and their baggage."

With that, the Devil walked off down the hall, eyes on a young nurse. He then turned around and his stare pierced right through Sam.

"I like you, Sam. It's why I keep you on such a long leash and let you get away with more than I should. I would hate to cut you off from all that freedom you seem to enjoy so much. And you can tell that no account, good for nothing Dean that I don't have access to his contract, so he shouldn't even bother. Someone else took it over."

Sam found himself back in the bathroom, sunlight gleaming through the venetian blinds. He registered this for a moment before he tore back to his bedroom. Everyone turned to stare at him incredulously as he grabbed for the folder and flipped through it violently, almost tearing through the pages. Sock and Ben came up on either side of him, peering over his shoulder to see what he was looking for.

Five minutes passed as he perused through the police reports from 1978. His eyes darted across the scrawling lines, then he jabbed his finger at a sentence and turning it around for them all to see.

"Cherry was right! There was someone else there the night Starla died. Layla Brookes. She was on the witness list but she was never questioned after that night. If she watched Starla die and never told the cops anything, that'd be a pretty good motive for revenge. And if she was an actress back then, she probably wouldn't be in the business anymore and not on Greene's contact list."

Sammy took the file from Sam and glanced it over before turning back to his laptop and typing the name into a search engine. Clicking on the top link, he was directed to a biography page of a very good looking brunette, one Layla Brookes. They scrolled down the page, where at the very bottom it read that she had left the industry in the late 70's after only a few roles and died in 1997 from lung cancer. Sam was crushed. He had thought for sure that they had found Starla's next target, but she had died over a decade ago.

"She is survived by a daughter, Brittany Brookes. I can look her up in the directory and try to warn her, but people don't usually tend to listen to things like that over the phone."

Then, like a ton of bricks, it hit Sam and he started tapping Sock's arm wildly.

"Brittany! The girl at the studio! She told us that she had tried out for a role in Greene's movie but he gave her a secretary job instead. If he had found out that her mother was Layla, he would have felt like he owed it to Layla to keep her daughter off the camera."

Ben snapped his fingers, jumping out of the desk chair and grabbing his coat.

"If Starla went to find Layla and discovered she was dead, she would have been more than pissed off."

Sammy and Dean looked at each other, the color draining from their faces.

"Pissed off enough to go after her daughter."

**SRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR**

The Impala roared down the expressway, the station wagon directly ahead of them. There had been an argument about that, Dean convinced that he could get there first and prevent another death. Sam had to remind him that he didn't know his way around the docks and warehouses and that getting lost wouldn't help anyone.

Sammy checked the ammo in his shotgun before setting in down and moving to his pistol.

"By the way, Bobby called me earlier."

Dean merely cocked an eyebrow in the direction of his brother, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the road ahead of him.

"Said that as soon as we help capture this soul, we should get out of town. That Sam is too dangerous to be around."

A quick change of lanes, followed by a snort told Sammy what Dean thought of Bobby's warning.

"I could knock this kid around with one hand tied behind my back. Well, when he's not using a car door as a weapon. All I know is that if we can get my contract off this guy, it's more than enough reason to stick around, no matter what Bobby says."

Sammy sighed as he loaded the clip into his pistol, turned off the safety and pulled back the barrel. Setting their weapons out, Sammy made some calculations in his head to what they would need to pack versus supplies they might need. They had no clue how exactly Sam was planning on capturing this soul, but they needed to be prepared in case he couldn't.

When the station wagon turned into a maze of warehouses, Dean was actually glad they had followed Sam and his friends. Even though he had been there not hours before, he couldn't recall what way he had went.

Parking close to the door in case they needed to get to their cars quickly, Sammy and Dean piled out of the Impala and began securing their weapons in the lining of their jackets and the waist of their jeans. Sock, Sam and Ben all shared a look.

"Uhm, you do realize that your guns aren't going to do any good, unless they'll help us get arrested faster."

Sock presented his fist to Sam, giving him props on the burn.

Dean didn't stop, rather he stared at Sam with a defiant glare as he loaded up.

"Dude, I'm serious. There are two security guards in the atrium and if they see you guys packing, we'll never stop the soul from killing Brittany. So just stop, okay?"

Shotgun expertly hidden in his leather jacket, Dean shut the car door and turned to look at Sam.

"Listen, kid. I don't know how you and your friends roll on the playground, but when it comes to dealing with things coming out of the Pit, us grownups like to be prepared. So shut your cake-hole and watch how the professionals do it."

Sock stood with his mouth open for a moment as Sammy and Dean turned to walk up the path leading to the production studio, then nudged Sam sharply with his shoulder, urging him forward. Sam took the hint and jogged quickly to catch up with the brothers.

"At least let me do the talking. Brittany already knows me, so she'll trust me when I tell her we need to keep her safe from Starla's soul."

Dean just grunted in acknowledgment, pulling the atrium doors open and letting Sam walk in first. When they all finally were inside, they noticed that the two guards from before were sitting at the security desk but Brittany was not seated at her desk. Sam looked around for a moment before turning to the guards.

"Do you know where Brittany is?"

The older black man with shades of white creeping at his temples grunted and took a sip of his coffee.

"Had to go back to the filing office to verify someones 2257. She should be back in a moment."

Sam cursed under his breath and looked at Sock and Ben. Dean and Sammy hovered closely to him.

"We can't go anywhere without a key-card and those guys aren't going to let us back there again."

At that moment, Cherry came out from the double doors that led back to the studio with a piece of paper dangling from her hand. She seemed pissed when she saw that Brittany was not at her station, but her expression changed when she caught a glimpse of Sam. Squealing, she ran over to him, the echo of her heels reverberating loudly around the atrium.

"Sam! I knew I'd be seeing you back here! Come around to get an exclusive interview?"

Cherry intertwined her arms around Sam's and pulled him closer to her. Sock and Ben grinned while Sammy and Dean were left clueless. Sam waved his free hand around, trying to magic an answer out of thin air.

"Actually, I'm here to see Brittany. I didn't get a chance to finish talking to her the other day."

The frown on Cherry's face was slightly terrifying, her heart shaped face tightening in jealously. Sam tried to lean back from her grip on him.

"But once I'm done, I'd be glad to talk to you one on one. But she went back to the office and I don't know how long she'll be."

Smiling coyly, Cherry pulled out a key-card and led same to the adjacent set of doors and swiped the card through the reader. There was a low hiss as the lock disengaged and Cherry grabbed the door handle and led them all back into the long hallway, the others following behind him single file.

The sound of people talking and phones ringing buzzed all around them as they passed a few open doors, where men and women in suits and ties sat at their desks, oblivious to the world outside their office doors. Cherry made a left where the one hallway ended and led them down two doors where a crooked plaque saying 'Records' was poorly glued. When she pushed open the door, they saw Brittany kneeling on the floor, tears streaming down her face, with Starla standing over her, both hands wrapped around her slim neck.

Sam pushed Cherry back and dug in his pocket for the vessel, but could not find it. Dean elbowed past him and pulled out the shotgun loaded with rock salt shells and opened fire on Starla. The sound was deafening and Dean hit his target dead on, but all the blast did was knock the soul back a few feet. Starla looked down to see the wound in her stomach before turning her glare on Dean, who was stunned that she did not dissipate into an incorporeal state.

Starla kicked Brittany aside, who cried out in pain when she fell. Starla laughed maniacally as she stalked towards Dean. Sam could not believe that the idiot had opened fire in an office.

"Dude!"

Dean cocked the shotgun and aimed it back at Starla, but Sam shoved his shoulder into Dean, knocking him back into one of the filing cabinets. There was a loud crash as he landed and Starla moved to hover over him menacingly. Sammy pulled out a small pouch from his jacket and threw some dark powder on Starla but it had no effect. While Starla was distracted in a coughing fit and fanning the powder out of her face, Ben and Sock snuck around the office to retrieve a sobbing Brittany.

Starla lashed out for Sammy, grabbing him by his jacket lapels and hurled him into a wall. He crumpled to the ground with a dull thud, gasping for air as pain lanced through his body. She then turned back to Dean, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him off the ground and held him aloft.

"Sam!"

Sam turned to see Ben throw the garishly pink vibrator to him. Throwing his arms up, he deftly caught the vessel and twisted the bottom viciously, the vibrations sending a weird tingle up his hands and arms.

"Suck on this, bitch!"

A bright bolt of red light shot out of the tip of the vessel and surrounded Starla. Dean's eyes widened as he fought for air as the glow filled the room. Sam held onto the vessel tightly and yanked it back, the visage of Starla distorting as she was sucked into the vibrator. Dean fell to the ground as the weight holding him up vanished in a burst of crimson. Coughing, Dean managed to get to his feet and crossed the room slowly to help his brother up.

Sam cheered and tossed the vessel into the air before catching it and shoving it into his pocket, an image of an Old West gunslinger. He then rushed out of the room to find Ben and Sock.

Dean and Sam stared at each other.

"I've never seen anything take a gut full of rock salt like that. Dean, when I threw that voodoo powder on her, she brushed it off like it was nothing."

Sammy flashed the bag and waved it around by the string tie.

"It didn't feel like anything we've ever come across either. When she was choking me, it felt like she was boiling my brain inside my skull. But even though she was strangling me, it felt really good."

Sammy bit his lip in thought, then snapped his fingers.

"The coroner said that Greene had a flood of endorphins in his brain. She must have been doing the same to you, overloading the pleasure centers in your brain."

Dean shivered.

"That's sick."

Sammy was going to reply, but the sound of approaching sirens cut him off. They bolted out of the office and down the hallway before they ran into Sam, who was busy consoling Brittany and Cherry.

"Hey, we'd love to stick around, but the cops kind of have it out for us and we really don't want to end up in cuffs."

Sam frowned and stared at them over the heads of the girls.

"Well, if _someone_ hadn't gotten trigger happy..."

Dean had the good sense to look guilty before Sammy urged him forward. Heading back through the doors, Sam called out to the brothers.

"Meet us at the DMV in an hour."

**SRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSR**

Sam stepped up to the plastic partition.

"Place the vessel on the mat."

He pulled the vibrator out from his pocket and pushed it through the opening in the window. Gladys arched an eyebrow at the group in front of her as the clear tube appeared from up under the counter. Sock grinned lewdly at her.

"Oh yeah, Glad-Bags. That's how we roll."

Ben punched Sock on the arm as Gladys narrowed her eyes, sending the vessel down the tube and out of sight. They gave her half hearted waves as they walked off, heading out into the evening air, the Impala greeting them as they turned the corner of the building. Sammy and Dean leaned against the hood and stood as they approached.

"So, I have to ask... the DMV?"

Sam chuckled and ducked his head.

"Any place that seems like hell on earth usually is. It's where we send the souls back to Hell... We told the cops that some obsessed fan was trying to kill Brittany and after they shot at us, they took off. No one really asked questions about you two."

Dean nodded his head in silent thanks and ran a hand through his hair.

"What was up with the mega mojo you had going with those chicks? They were all over you, man."

Sam shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

"I get these weird little abilities from time to time. The Devil's way of helping me out with catching souls. They usually disappear after a few weeks, though."

Sammy coughed loudly and tossed a look to Dean. Sam knew what they were trying to communicate and cut them off.

"Don't even bother, you guys. The Devil wanted me to tell you that someone else 'bought out' your contract and that he didn't have it anymore."

A jolt of dread shot through the brothers when Sam told them this, but their shock went unnoticed by the others.

"Also told me if I kept hanging out with you, that there might be some... consequences. So no offense, but could you guys please leave?"

Dean recovered slightly, leaned over and extended his hand. Sam shook it cordially and did the same for Sammy. Sock and Ben gave them little waves as they got into the Impala. Dean brought the car to life and as the engine rumbled, Sammy leaned out of the passenger side window and handed Sam a slip of paper.

"If you ever need with help with something or need some info. I'm sure the Devil can't do anything to you for calling for advice."

Sam laughed and stuck the paper in his pants pocket.

"You'd be surprised."

The Impala roared out of the parking lot and out of sight. Sock pulled out his keys and the three of them headed to his station wagon.

"Nice fellas. God, I hope we never see those d-bags ever again."

Ben and Sam laughed at this, though they silently agreed with Sock's sentiment.

* * *

Ta-da!


End file.
